pull the trigger
by TheWingsOfButterflies
Summary: She was the fairy girl covered in blood and he was the jaded medic who kept putting her back together. -Sasuke/Sakura-


_pull the trigger_

**note1:** This has been sitting in my idea folder for awhile now. Let's have at it.  
**note2:**Baptized By Fire - Spinnerette, Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes, Love Is Blindness - Jack White, Man Of Steel trailer song (Extended end of The Bridge of Khazad Dum from Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring) - Howard Shore

**summary: **She was the fairy girl covered in blood and he was the jaded medic who kept putting her back together. -Sasuke/Sakura-

* * *

Sasuke forgets how long this war has been going for. -_Too long, way too damn long._- He used to keep track, in the beginning. First he counted by days, then by the number of broken bodies he patched together just to be torn apart again, and then finally, before he gave up altogether, by how many headstones they put up in the makeshift graveyard behind the base's concrete walls. (At first they worried that the enemy would destroy their makeshift monument to the fallen, but even their enemies have respect for the dead.) Now days blended into weeks into months, but none of it mattered. He had fallen into a routine, and nothing could seem to break him from it. Get up, splash some water on his face and stare at the bruise like shadows under his eyes, then dive into the bloody mess that was the med-tent and try to put the pieces back together _-Everyone is screaming and there is blood everywhere and he's cutting and sewing and __**dammit**__ he's trying!_- until he passed out and woke up again to repeat the process. Sometimes Naruto would drop by and try to get him to eat, and Kiba would occasionally show with a new bottle of vodka -_Thank God. Sometimes he needed to be numb and for it all to just __**stop**_.- and a toothy smirk, but that was the routine. At least until _she _showed up.

…..

The first time he meets her, she doesn't meet him. She's passed out on his operating table, covered in blood with a body pumped full of lead. He pauses, struck by how out of place she seems. She's so tiny, so delicate. Her pink hair is plastered to an unusually large forehead with blood, her skin pale like the fine china his mother used to bring out for special occasions. Defined cheekbones, fine eyebrows, lips a dusty rose. She's not traditionally pretty, but still so beautiful. And still dying. He sighs. -_Too much, too young, too fast. It's a shame, but not something he hasn't seen before, and probably will see again._- Dropping his scalpel to the smooth expanse of her stomach, he makes the first cut.

…..

There's a scuffle in the cafeteria, insults being flung about and voices steadily rising. People are circling around whoever's going at it now, but Sasuke just leans back in his chair and sighs. Everyone's been going stir crazy since they were pulled off the frontlines, and fights like this weren't uncommon. He supposed it was better than them being mowed down by enemy combatants, but the growing amount of soldiers with minor injuries showing up in his office was starting to grate on his nerves. This lull in the fighting was getting to him too. More and more often he would spend the night alone with a bottle or two of vodka, tired of waking up from a restless sleep filled with the screams of the dying and rivers of rotting blood. He sees their faces in his dreams, those he couldn't save. They're floating in the black river, pale hands outstretched in a desperate plea, eyes opaque and flat. The bodies pile up along the banks, and the mound just keeps getting higher and higher, until it threatens to collapse on him, burying him in the ranks of the dead. That's when he'll wake up, shaking and covered in sweat. -_Breathe. He needs to __**breathe**_.- There is nothing to do here, nothing to keep him from his nightmares and nothing to keep his mind off of the grim reality that people just kept _dying_.

He stands, his chair making a dreadful scraping noise on the cheap tile floors, like nails on a chalkboard. The fighting has escalated, and the rhythmic chanting of the spectators reached fever pitch. Sasuke walks by without a second glance, already mentally preparing himself to stitch up whatever imbeciles that were at it this time.

…..

There's a sharp knock, and before he can even respond she's flung open the door and thrown herself down on his table. She glares at him, as if it was his fault she's bleeding all over his off-white floor, and thrusts her bleeding arm in his general direction. He blinks a few times and stares. He _knows _this girl. She's the petite one who was on his operating table less than a month ago with a stomach full of lead, too pretty to be in this pointless war. Her pink hair is jarringly bright against the white walls, and she is still so pale and delicate. But there is nothing delicate about the look she's giving him, full of poison and daggers, ready to fight.

"Well?" she demands, obviously upset she had to come see him to patch up her wounds.

"Hn," he mutters noncommittally, still trying to figure out what to say to this fairy girl who made his head spin. And she did, make his head spin. He was at a loss for words, which was highly unusual for Sasuke. There was something about this girl, something different.

He grabs her arm gently, pulling it close so he can inspect the damage. A frown mars his face when he sees how deep the gash is, almost to the bone. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a syringe and bottle of anesthetic. Placing them on the counter, he quickly washes his hands in the too hot water of the too small sink. Gliding swiftly back to her side, he gives her a shot and starts to re-inspect the wound until the numbness sets in.

"You should see the other guy," she grins maliciously, obviously pleased with herself, "They should be bringing him in soon. On a stretcher."

"Hn," he replies again, cool on the outside but secretly pleased within. She could hold her own then. That was good. Maybe he could stop worrying about her then. Hopefully. -_He knows he won't though. She's just too __**interesting**__- _He continues to hold her arm as he contemplates the effect her existence is having on his thoughts, unaware of her growing displeasure. Her melodic voice breaks him out of his reverie.

"Do you ever actually say anything, or are you going to continue with monosyllabic answers all day?" she grumbles, obviously unsatisfied with his lack of conversation. He smirks, faint amusement clearly visible at his normally expressionless face. There is a childlike innocence about her, although he knows she is anything but. One does not survive long on the battlefield by being naive.

"More often than not," he finally answers, "Most people aren't worthy of full length sentences."

Her eyes light up, sparkling like jewels, exotic and beautiful.

"So I'm one of the few worthy?" she's teasing him, and he can't help but tease her back.

"We'll see."

He slides the needle through her delicate skin, watches the blood well up from this new wound, and can't help but notice that she doesn't even flinch.

…..

Sasuke ties off the knot and snips the excess string, the 'schink' of the scissors sounding disturbingly final, like the knell of a funeral bell. She stands and stretches her arms above her head, a barely perceptible wince crossing her features as she pulls of the new stitches. He frowns at her and she sends him a glittering smile, like daggers of broken glass. _-Run away, run away while you still can. This girl is will eat your heart.- _

"Well, thanks for sewing me up... ?" she leaves the sentence open, waiting for him to fill in the blank. He gives her and obliging smirk, and answers.

"Sasuke."

"Sasuke," she hums, his name rolling off her tongue like water, smooth and sensual, "I'm Sakura."

She smiles again and laughs, throwing open the door swiftly. Her walk is less of a walk and more like a dance with the way each of her steps seem to float to a beat that's playing in her head.

"Bye-bye, Sasuke!" she trills over her shoulder as she goes, pink hair fluttering.

He blinks and watches her go, thoughts snarled up and twisting this way and that. The only coherent thought that he has is that she has green eyes, and they remind him of home. Of summers under the tree tops and staring at the stars on the roof with Itachi and happier times before this damn war. He wonders when, no,_ if _she'll ever come back.

…..

They find each other more often now, gravitating towards each other like magnets. One will try to pull away, but the other just pulls them right back. It is an endless cycle, one they never really try to break free of.

She'll show up in his office with new cuts, bruises, and the occasional broken bone. He'll stitch her, bandage her, set what needs to be set. He has put her back together too many times to count, and he can trace every scar on her body from memory. It's sick and he knows it, but he can't stop himself from imagining the gentle curve of her ribs and the spiderweb scars that blossom across them. He sees her acid eyes and hands covered in blood and he thinks he might be falling in love with a girl that takes pride in ripping people apart. -_She's like oleander. So lovely, but will kill you in a heartbeat._-

Other times he finds her in the cafeteria in the shadowy twilight, bottles of booze spread across the table. She'll glare at him, but Sasuke just sighs and sits down next to her, his own familiar bottle of vodka in hand. They'll sit there until the dawn comes, drinking away the pain and losing themselves in the comforting ocean of numbness that the alcohol brings. When she falls into a dreamless sleep he'll pick her up and hold her close, _-If he doesn't she'll slide through his fingers and disappear, like dust in the wind.- _then carry her back to her room. He tucks her in like one would a child, and places a chaste kiss on her forehead before he goes.

…..

The fighting has started again, and their temporary peace is over. Everyone is talking and moaning and moving, but all he can do is stare and stare and stare at the list of those going back to the frontlines, heart shattering as he continues to focus on her name at the top of the list. He knows she wants to go, to be out doing what she does best. She still believes in their home, in this war. There won't be any stopping her once she sees, and he is terrified.

Sasuke abruptly turns around and walks towards her room. He begins to jog, an inexplicable panic setting in. His mind is racing and he still isn't going fast enough, so he takes off in a sprint, heart pounding out of his chest. The only thought on his mind is that he needs to be near her, to smell her vanilla tinted scent, to feel her heartbeat and know that she's still alive. He rounds the corner and nearly runs her over, sliding to an almost comedic stop. Her eyes widen in surprise at his disheveled appearance, but she gives him a sad smile when she understands what has happened.

"You know," he asks, but it's not really a question when he already knows the answer.

She nods and gives him a soft smile, a delicate hand coming up to frame his face. Sakura tenderly brushes her thumb along his cheekbone, fingers cool on his slightly flushed face. She's so, so beautiful and he just can't _take_ it anymore. He slams her against the door and covers her mouth with his, biting down on her lip. It stings and she hisses at him, but returns the kiss with equal fervor anyway. Teeth clack and tongues slide across each other sensually, while his hands slide to her waist and hers bury themselves in his hair. He rubs his thumbs in languorous circles on her hips and she moans, the sound only intensifying his lust. He maps her mouth with his tongue completely before sliding down to her neck, nipping and sucking all the way down to her left collarbone, quickly placing a sharp bite before sucking harshly. _-Mine, mine, mine, __**mine**__.- _He knows he should stop, he really does, but he just can't. Not now.

One of her hands leaves his hair and swipes across the door, seeking the handle desperately. She finds it, and they stumble backwards into her room. Sasuke stops for a moment and looks at her, gives her a chance to escape, to say no, to end this, to end everything. The look in his eyes is pleading, but he's not sure what for. She pushes the door closed behind him, turning the lock with a 'click' that sounds deafening in the temporary silence. Jade eyes meet onyx, and everything just _stops_.

While Sakura's face is impassive, her eyes show him everything. He sees lust and sadness and regret in their depths, and her smile is so bittersweet he can't stop himself from pulling her close. Her arms come up to wrap around his neck, and she takes soft steps backwards, gently pulling him with her onto the bed. He rests himself on top of her and kisses her again, softly at first, but growing more passionate as the seconds pass. She moans into his mouth and reaches out to turn off the lamp, and they are blanketed by the darkness.

…..

Her bare shoulders are pale against the dark sheets, almost like snow on the asphalt, beautiful and temporary. Sasuke traces the curve of her spine with slender fingers, relishing in the way she shivers and sighs in her sleep. His eyes are heavy and he feels content for the first time since the war began. He's in love with her, and he knows it. It's such a dangerous thing, love, and loving her especially. He knows she's going to break his heart one way or another, but right now he doesn't care. He slides an arm around her waist and pulls her close, shivering when his still sensitive flesh slides against hers. His eyes slide closed and sleep overtakes him, and he has no nightmares.

…..

When he wakes up later the bed is cold, and she is gone.

Her closet is empty and the walls are completely bare. She had erased herself completely, leaving no traces of the fairy girl who once dwelled here. His clothes are in a neat pile on the desk, and there is a letter on top. He gets up and pulls on his pants, avoiding the disgustingly innocent envelope for as long as he can. It seems to grow larger and larger until he just can't take it anymore and grabs it off the desk, glaring, and rips it open savagely. He reads it once, twice, three times before he sinks to the ground, dropping the offending letter on the way. The black letters of her scrawling script have burned themselves into his retinas, and he can picture her writing them while he sleeps.

_Sasuke,_

_I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. _

_I have to go. You know I do. But I miss you already, even though you're close enough to touch. So I'm leaving without saying goodbye, because goodbyes are far too painful, and I don't think either of us could handle it. So I won't say it. I won't. But I will say this, even though it may be just as painful. (But I need to say it anyway.)_

_I love you._

_Sakura_

Sasuke slams his fist on the floor, filled with emotions he's tried so long to repress. He can't do this. He just can't. He's done losing people he cares about, he is so fucking done. This war took his family, his life, and now it's trying to take her. Sasuke pushes himself off the floor and strides to the door, flinging it open with reckless abandon. He has bags to pack and a letter to request a transfer to write.

He's not losing her, not like this.

…..

He hasn't found her yet, but he knows he will. There are a limited number of medics here, and with her track record it's only a matter of time before she shows up on his table, bleeding and broken, that same sheepish grin on her face. He'll give her the same smirk and eyeroll, then put all of her pieces back together and everything will be okay. Things will go back to normal, and normal, well, relatively normal, is something he can handle.

And if she doesn't come to him, he will go to her. He'll find her somewhere, maybe the makeshift graveyard, maybe in the barracks, maybe out on the battlefield covered in mud and guts. -_Maybe six feet underground._- It doesn't matter where she is, because he will look everywhere until he finds her. He will look for her for forever if he has to, because Sasuke has never been good at giving things up and letting go.

…..

He is running harder than he has ever run before. His blood is pounding through his veins, crackling with energy. Fear is pounding in his skull, trying to break free and overwhelm him, but he is Sasuke Uchiha, and he does not succumb to fear. Mines are going off left and right, a rain of shrapnel and dirt falling from a blood red sky. Bullets are whizzing by his face and all he can hear is the screaming of the wounded and dying. Its a symphony of chaos and pain, and he thinks he might be going crazy from it all. Suddenly there is a boom that shakes him to his very bones, and a shock wave that almost brings him to his knees. He slows down to watch the sea of flame that seems to erupt from the horizon in the direction of the enemy camp. '_Deidara_,' he thinks, '_the crazy bastard finally did it._'

He tightens his grip on his Glock, its warm metal reassuring and familiar. Knowing the blonde pyro, there will be nothing left of the enemy, and maybe of the man himself. Sasuke turns back, ready to leave this godforsaken battlefield, strewn with the bodies of friend and enemy alike. He scans the horizon facing what he he come to consider home, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees a shock of pink hair lying off to his right. -_No. Not her. Anyone but her._-

He thinks he might be screaming her name, but all he can hear is the rush of blood to his head. He takes off in a dead sprint, not even bothering to avoid the bodies lying about, crunching limbs and cracking ribs with his combat boots as he goes. He slides to a stop in the blood slick dirt, dropping to his hands and knees. He knows this porcelain skin, those rosebud lips and springtime hair.

"Sakura," he whispers, afraid that his voice will shatter her into a million tiny pieces of which he has no hope of ever putting back together.

She turns her head towards him, blinking emerald eyes owlishly. When she recognizes him she smiles, and there is blood on her teeth. He counts the bullet holes in her chest, numb, numb, number than the vodka could ever make him. One, two, three, six, eleven. Eleven bullets hit her before she went down, that damnably beautiful girl who could carry the whole world on her shoulders. There is no surviving this much damage, and he knows this, but it doesn't stop him from placing his cool hands on the holes, trying to stem the flow of blood. -_Too much blood. Too much, too much, too much._- His breath is coming in ragged gasps; he can't get enough air, there just isn't enough.

She coughs, a wet, rattling sound, and it chills him to the bone. Blood drips from her mouth and there are tears in her eyes. She's in pain, he knows she is, and he can't do anything to stop it. She's dying in his arms and he can't do _anything_.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Sasuke," she whispers, deathly quiet, "I love you Sasuke." A bloody hand comes up to hold his face, swiping away a tear he hadn't known he had shed. (Sasuke hadn't cried since his family died, and that was a long, long time ago.)

"I know, I know," he whispers back, burying his face in her pink locks, "Me too. I love you to." He can still smell her scent, a hint of vanilla and something uniquely Sakura, underneath the ash and blood. She laughs her wind chime laugh, and it's like poison in his lungs, suffocating him slowly.

"Sasuke," she murmurs, breath tickling his ear, "kill me softly." He jerks back, and meets her unwavering gaze. The light is leaving her eyes, fading away like the dawn. He reaches for his forgotten Glock, the small gun seeming to weigh infinitely heavier than it had only minutes before.

He brings the muzzle to her head and leans down to give her one last kiss. It is soft and beautiful, and it feels like a knife in his gut. Her eyes flutter close, butterfly soft. He buries his free hand in her hair, bringing her up to meet his desperate kiss. She tastes like sugar and possibilities, of things that could have been. She sighs and he pulls back, watching the single tear that cuts its way through the grime and dirt to fall into the blood soaked earth.

"I love you," he whispers for the final time, and she smiles faintly, at peace.

Sasuke closes his eyes to the burning sunset, to the blood and carnage and hate that is the human race, to the fairy girl that he'll always love, and pulls the trigger.

**fin.**

* * *

**note3:** oh my god that was almost 4000 words of pure angst and love and wow.  
**note4: **This is officially my baby, so love it. Love it now.


End file.
